trigger warning: mention of violence, child abuse, verbal abuse.
“Speak up!”A hand collided with the side of my face, slapping me hard enough to send me to the ground. “Come on, use your fucking voice!”
That wasn’t the voice of a bully pushing me around because I was “mute.” That was my father, beating me one last time when I was eight years old, before he left my mother and me.
“Stop!” my mom would cry. “Stop it!! He would talk if he could and you’re only making it worse!” She would jump in front of me, but he wouldn’t stop, he’d slap her too.
“Speak up and protect your mother!” he’d yell. “Fucking useless child. This is why I’m leaving you, wasting all my money on therapists and shit, but there’s no hope for you! You,” he pointed at my mother, “should have had an abortion like I told you to. The only reason I stuck around was because I thought I should be decent enough to be a father since I’d fucked you unprotected. But if I knew I would be stuck with a retarded child, I would have left a long time ago.”
He picked up his already packed bags and left. My mother held me in her arms, crying, drenching the top of my head with tears. I didn’t cry. I had cried so much the times he’d beat me before that I had no tears left. I know my mother was crying for me more than herself, maybe she felt bad for me that I had no tears left, so she made up for them.
I was convinced I was useless just like my father said. There was no one who would stick around for me; my own father wouldn’t, so who would?
I stood now at the entrance of the living room, looking at my father. This wasn’t the first time I had seen him since he left. He often came and visited randomly. I was never sure why. Every time he came, he just brought trouble. He would make me feel like crap about myself and then leave. My mother once said he must have come when he had trouble so that he could put us down to feel better about himself. I was beginning to agree with that theory.
He sat on the sofa, staring at me, scrutinizing me as he looked me up and down.
“Still the silent treatment, eh?” he scoffed, rubbing his hands on knees as if my silence was making him physically uncomfortable. He was wear a suit that looked pretty expensive, nothing could make him uncomfortable in that. He looked towards my mother. “Why don’t you buy him decent clothes? He looks like a child stuck with hand-me-downs.”
I clenched my fists. I didn’t care if he attacked me, but he had no right to make my mother feel bad.
“They’re his friends’ clothes,” she stated plainly. Damn, when did she notice? “He’s been staying the night there.”
“He has friends?” my father laughed. “Are they mute like you?”
“He’s not mute,” my mother said firmly. “Why did you come here?”
“To see how you all are doing,” he shrugged.
“To make us feel horrible because you’re a successful business man?”
“Just to see how my son is doing, that’s all,” he said, standing up. He stepped closer towards my mother and me and I instinctively took a step back. “Oh, still scared of me, Frankie?” I shook my head and he smirked. “Oh, you look like it.” He continued taking steps closer to us until he was standing right in front of my mother. “You know,” he said, looking closely at my mother, “you were so beautiful until you had him.”
“Shut the hell up,” she muttered, her teeth gritted together. “Hurry up and say or do what you need to do to feel better about yourself and leave. I only let you in because I don’t want trouble.”
“What? I can’t compliment you?” He brought a hand up to touch my mother’s face, but she flinched back before he could. He got angry and forcefully took her face into his hands. “Why should you be disgusted by my touch?? It’s the other way around!”
I watched my mother stand defenseless in front of him and something went off inside me. I grabbed his arm so that he let go of my mother’s face and shoved him backwards, pushing both my hands into his chest. He stumbled back, mostly shocked by my outburst, but then composed himself.
“Wow,” he nodded, as if he was impressed, “not bad. Are you trying to be useful? Because that’s not gonna happen.”
“Frankie,” my mother spoke from behind me, her hand tugging on the back of my hoodie. “Just leave it be, Frankie.”
I shook my head and stared at the man who I was supposed to refer to as my father. I was stronger than he thought.
“Listen to your mother, Frankie,” he said, taking a step towards me again. “I don’t wanna hurt you like I did when you were younger. See I wouldn’t do that again, because I know there’s no chance of you talking. You’re fucking useless. I look at you and wonder how I could have helped create such a thing. You can’t speak, you’re weak, you can’t even look like a man because you’re stuck looking like a twelve year old. What’s good about you, Frankie? Name one thing.”
My eyes were clouded with tears because the one thing that resonated in my mind as he said that was Gerard. He was my good thing. If I had him…
“Fucking weakling,” my father scoffed. “If you can cry, why the fuck can’t you talk??”
“That’s enough,” my mother burst. “Get the hell out of my house.”
“Ha! You can’t command me like that,” he said, taking another step towards me. He grabbed me by the shoulder, practically crushing the bone beneath his grip. “You know I’m stronger than you. Physically and financially. So you can’t do anything to me.”
My mother was about to speak again, but all of a sudden I found myself coming closer to the floor and hadn’t even realized that he had hurled me that way until my head collided roughly with the ground.
“You ass hole!” my mother yelled, kneeling next to me and taking me into her arms. “You can’t do this to us anymore! Get the fuck out of our lives! You threatened to walk out on us, so just do it! We’re better off!”
“You know why I’m here?” my father said, leaning down beside us. My vision was blurred but I could feel him looming over us. “Because word got out that I have a retarded son and that I abandoned him so now I’m the fucking ass hole of the company. That promotion I was hoping for? Gone. All because my retarded son had to come back and fucking haunt me.”
“He doesn’t want anything to do with your life!” my mother sobbed. “So just go!”
“I wanted you to at least receive punishment,” he said simply, as if this was the most obvious thing in the world.
“Punishment for what?” she gasped.
“For being a retard, a mute, a waste of a life. This is all about him, I have nothing against you except that you were able to give birth to such a person.”
My mother was about to speak but all that came out of her mouth was a whimper when he tossed her aside and away from me. He lifted me up off the ground, grabbing hold of the front of my hoodie, then threw me back onto the ground. His fist connected with my stomach and a shallow gust of air forced its way out of my mouth. I curled up on the ground, gasping for air, as my lungs had been emptied out completely. The breath scraped past my throat. There was a long pause as he just stood there, watching me attempt to fill my lungs with air again.
“Get the fuck away from him!” my mom yelled. I still couldn’t see anything.
“W-what do you think you’re doing?” my father stuttered, backing away from me.
“Get away from him,” she said again.
“Y-you can’t really d-do anything to me,” he said, sounding scared.
“Don’t test me,” my mother spoke, sounding like a completely different person. “Get out of my house. Now.”
I heard the scrambling of feet and then footsteps that went to the front door. The door swung open then closed shut. Something metal hit the floor and my mom came rushing to me, lifting me off the ground. I had caught my breath for the most part, my stomach just feeling a bit sore from the punch.
“Frankie,” my mother sobbed, “my baby. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I don’t know why I let myself get scared of him. He keeps hurting you, baby, I’m sorry.”
I snuggled into her embrace for a while until my vision came back and I pulled away. I looked up at her tear-stained face and sat up. There was a knife. My eyes widened and I looked towards my mom.
“M-mom, did you…”
“Yes,” she sighed. “I just threatened him to get him out. I’m so sorry, baby.”
“You don’t need to apologize,” I said. “What if he comes back?”
“I don’t know,” she sighed, shaking her head and looking down.
“We’re going to Mikey’s house,” I said, standing up. My stomach still ached a little with the movement, but I ignored it and helped my mother off the floor. “Go pack your clothes.”
“F-Frankie,” she stuttered, most likely shocked at how much talking I was doing. This wasn’t normal, but I suddenly felt the need to protect her, and I wouldn’t be able to do it silently.
“We need a place to stay until we make sure he isn’t coming back,” I said. “He could hurt you.”
“I don’t want to go there and be trouble,” she began, but I interrupted her.
“I’ve been there for a week, adding you won’t be a problem,” I shrugged. “I’m going there no matter what, and I’m not going without you.”
“Frankie?” she sighed, coming over to me and placing a gentle hand on my cheek. “When did you become so confident around me?”
“I need to protect you,” I said simply. “No one else will. Go pack your clothes, I’ll call Mikey to let him know.”
A warm smile spread across her face and that was more than enough to comfort me. She turned towards her bedroom and I collapsed onto the floor when she was gone, feeling overwhelmed. The emotional pain settled in and I found the tears rolling down my cheeks and there was no stopping them.
I pulled my cell phone out and dialed Mikey’s number.
“Hey, lover boy,” Mikey answered.
“M-Mikey,” I whimpered.
“Shit, Frankie, what happened?? What’s wrong?!”
“I-I need to come over,” I said, unable to stop myself from crying.
“Frankie, what…shut up, Gerard, I’m asking what happened…Frankie, what happened?”
“Me and my mom need to stay at your house,” I said, the tears calming down just a bit. “I’ll tell you what happened when we get there. Is it ok if we stay a few days?”
“Hell yeah,” Mikey answered without hesitation. “I know for sure my mom won’t care. Are you guys okay? Just tell me you’re ok.”
“Yeah,” I said simply. “We’re leaving now.”
“Ok,” Mikey said.
I hung up and went into my room to gather some clothes, even though most of them were already left at Gerard’s. Gerard. My heart broke when I thought of the way I had to make him leave. I was sure it killed him to think that I wouldn’t want to announce my relationship with him to my mom.
He was the only thought that comforted me while my father made me feel worthless, but I couldn’t help but wonder why Gerard stayed with me. My father was right, about no one wanting someone like me, so why was Gerard around? I couldn’t understand what made him want to put up with me. Seeing my father reminded me of the weird, useless guy I really was.
I finished packing some clothes and headed out to the living room, where my mother stood with some packed clothes. We didn’t really say anything; there were no words. We just walked out to her car and she drove towards the Way home. When we pulled up, I helped my mom carry her things to the front door and I used my key to get inside. I let her walk in first and then closed the door behind us.
“You guys are here,” Mikey said, jumping up from the sofa when we walked in.
“They’re here??” another voice called and I felt goosebumps rise all over me at the sound of Gerard’s voice from the kitchen.
“Did you talk to your mother?” my mom asked Mikey. “Are you sure it’s not any trouble to have us stay here? We could find another place.”
“No, no I talked to her,” Mikey said, coming over and picking up our bags. “She said stay as long as you need.”
Gerard appeared at the doorway of the living room and he took no time at all to run over to me and take me into his arms, embracing me as if it was the last time he’d see me.
“Frankie,” he sighed, his breath running over my ear. “Are you okay? What happened? I shouldn’t have left. Please tell me you’re okay.”
I was nodding, but Gerard couldn’t see this since he was suffocating me in this hug. He rubbed his hands up and down my back and kept placing kisses to the side of my head. Someone cleared their throat but I wasn’t sure who. I was lost in this embrace.
“Oh, yeah,” Mikey spoke, “they’re dating.”
I pulled away from Gerard when I remembered that my mom was here and that Mikey had told her we were dating so bluntly.
Gerard noticed, too, and turned into a rambling mess.
“Oh, damn, you weren’t supposed to find out like this,” he said, turning to face my mother, and keeping an arm wrapped around me. “We were gonna come tell you today, formally, the right way, but then whatever happened, happened. And, man I did not want to announce it to you like this. I’m so sorry. I really, really care for your son, so much, I can’t even—”
“You’re dating my son?” my mom interrupted, looking back and forth between us. “You’re dating my Frankie?”
“Um,” Gerard looked down and scratched back of his head, “yeah.”
My mom surprised us both when she came over to Gerard and took him into a tight hug. Gerard had has hands hanging awkwardly at his sides, before he responded to the hug and wrapped his arms around her loosely. She pulled away and held his face in her hands.
“Do you really care for my son?” she asked.
“Yes, with all my heart.”
“Does he talk to you?” she asked.
“No, not yet at least.”
“And you don’t pressure him to?”
“No,” Gerard answered confidently.
“And you’ll take care of him? Keep him safe?”
“With my life,” Gerard answered immediately, like he had these answers prepared in the back of his mind. I couldn’t help but blush at the sureness behind each statement.
“Thank you,” my mom suddenly whimpered. “Thank you. You’re what my baby needs.”
Gerard smiled and this time he hugged her. “I need him just as much. So you approve of us being…together?”
“Of course,” she sighed after releasing him. “I already love you all as my own family, so I’m more than happy.”
Even after all the events that had just taken place, a grin made its way onto my face and I took hold of Gerard’s hand. My mom looked at us lovingly, her hands clamped together in front of her.
“I’ll show you our guest room,” Mikey said to her and she nodded, following him down the hall.
Gerard turned to face me now that we were alone and crashed our lips together. He held my face in both hands and I just stood there, allowing him to do whatever he pleased. He kept the kiss short, though, pulling away to hold his forehead against mine.
“What happened?” he asked, his breath tickling my lips.
I shut my eyes and looked down, disconnecting from him. I didn’t want to recall the events. I didn’t want to have to recite the things my father said to me to Gerard.
“If you can’t talk about it yet, it’s ok,” he nodded, taking me into a tight embrace. “As long as you’re ok. Come on, you could use some sleep.”
He took my hand and guided me to the basement. I couldn’t even remember walking towards the basement and then down the steps or getting in between the sheets. All I could remember was my head landing on the soft pillow and sleep following right after. My father was in my dreams, reminding me how useless I was, since his real life reminders just weren’t enough.